


Stuck

by FancyKid



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Humor, One Shot, Post ADWD, kind of, pre tourney, sansan, sansan genre writing challenge, the vale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 16:05:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6335389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancyKid/pseuds/FancyKid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally posted on Live Journal for the SanSan Genre Writing Challenge!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stuck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jennilynn411](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennilynn411/gifts), [Direwaggle42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Direwaggle42/gifts).



> Gifting to Jennilynn and Direwaggle! Without them, I actually wouldn't have come up with anything for this humor writing challenge.

It was a strong gust of wind that got her into this mess. Though if Alayne was being honest, it was all because of that bag of rocks Harry the Heir.

She tried to charm him, and she supposed she had. She flirted and toyed with him all evening. She danced with him, laughed with him and drank with him. The more Alayne drank, the more tolerable she found Harry’s company, to some extent.

The more Harry drank, the more he…well…

“Who would have thought,” He started, leaning in close to her as they sat together. “Littlefingerth bathurd could be tho theductive?”

Alayne’s cup froze at her lips as she turned toward the man seated next to her. Perhaps it was just the volume of the other guests, the music. Perhaps she hadn’t just heard what she thought she did. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you. Could you tell me that again?” She leaned her ear closer to his lips.

“I thaid, I never ethpected Littlefingerth bathurd to be tho theductive.”

Alayne coughed over the giggle that bubbled up her throat. It was all she could do to keep her laugh from sputtering in the man’s face. She leaned away again, gave him a _theductive_ smile. “That’s what I thought you said.”

For a man who had no right to be making fun of anyone in his current state, he sure wouldn’t give it up. He seemed to have a knack for simultaneously charming and insulting a girl. So for the rest of the night, Alayne continued to ply him with more wine and tried her damndest to get him to say every word she knew that contained an S.  She didn’t think it could get any better, but it was as if his tongue had grown three times in size, and she was the only one that noticed. When his R’s started turning into W’s, Alayne could hardly contain herself.

“Have you been to the Summer Isles?”

“Yeth. I like the thummuh ile’th very much. Hath you evuh been?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Of courth.” He patted her hand. “You awe jutht a bathud, aftuh all.”

Alayne nodded. “Of course.”

Harry went on to tell her all about the Summer Isles. The food, the women, the heat of the thun, how bwight the sthawth wuh on a cleaw night.

“And when it’th dawk out, the stawth shine bwight in the thky.

It felt as though there was an anthill in the pit of her stomach, ticking her insides so much that it was soon near impossible to hold it back. She couldn’t take it anymore. She needed to let it out. She made her excuses and left him there in the hall was packed with people that couldn’t see her laughing like a fool. She found a door and made her way outside. She ran to the edge of the yard until she found her way into the trees. She stopped at the first sturdy tree she found, leaned against it and let out a laugh like she had never heard escape her lips before.

She still felt a little guilty, making fun of a man for something that so obviously couldn’t be helped, something that he clearly didn’t even know he was doing. But then she thought of how he had treated her when they first met that morning. The way he looked down his nose at her all evening, and for once in her life, she couldn’t bring herself to care about someone else’s feelings.

Besides, she didn’t know if it would be wise to marry a man who couldn’t even pronounce her real name once he has a few drinks in him. _Alayne Thone_ was bad enough - she didn’t need to be called _Thantha_ by her own husband.

Another laugh erupted from her just at the same time as a gust of wind whipped through the valley. Her hair lifted off her shoulders, up into the air and into the spindly branches of the tree above her. The laugh died in her throat.

“ _Oh no_.” She stepped away, but her hair was caught.

Alayne lifted her arms and felt the mess that her tresses had become among the web of twigs and leaves. She tried to be gentle, finding one lock twisted and tangled around one twig and picked at it with her nails until her arms grew tired and she was sure she made it worse.

“How in the world…”

She contemplated breaking the branches and having Randa help her get untangled. But she hadn’t seen Randa for an hour. An image went through her head of her walking through the great hall, twigs, leaves and a full branch attached to her head. _No._ She would have to get herself out another way.

She twisted around and pushed herself up on her toes, trying to get at it from a different angle, trying to see it. All she managed to do was make the rest of her hair fall in her face so she couldn’t see a thing. Her fingers soon became frantic as her heart quickened. It was as if the tree itself had heard her shameful laughter, reached down with its branches and caught her up in this mess just to punish her. After a few cups of wine, she could practically hear the tree scolding her. _This is nothing you did not deserve._

Alayne huffed and twisted around again, trying to get at a better angle. “I didn’t do anything wrong.” She muttered under her breath.

_That’s what you get for making fun of someone all night long._

“Oh please, he had it coming. He is absurd.”

_That does not make what you did right._

Alayne growled. “Well, how would you feel, if you were pawned you off on a man who insults you the first time he meets you!”

_You are being too sensitive._

“I am _not_ being too sensitive. Ow!” Alayne pushed back up to her toes, the knots beginning to pull to tightly at her scalp.

She stilled herself and let her arms down by her sides. She thanked the gods that no one was there to see her like this, head down, hair a mess in her face, on her toes in the trees, attached to one. But she needed to be found. She needed help.

She felt a growl in her throat and kicked at the trunk in front of her. “Stupid tree.”

“What did it ever do to you?” Alayne’s eyes widened. She heard a branch crack under the heaviness of a boot. She was most definitely not alone. “I knew you Northerners loved talking to your trees, but this is getting out of hand.” *

The man teased in a deep voice. _What a strange thing to say to someone._ Alayne put her hands on her hips, feeling absolutely ridiculous with her head twisted and bent at a strange angle, her hair covering all of her face. Her face that she felt warm and redden with sheer embarrassment.  But she needed to keep some of her dignity intact. “Ser, I am quite stuck. Could you help me please?”

She heard the man step forward toward her and then she could feel him there, standing over her, assessing the damage she had done to herself. Or to the tree.  “It seems there’s quite a few knots. Do I have your permission to-“

“Get me out of this mess? Yes. Thank you very much.”

She felt the pressure ease at her scalp as he lowered a branch to work from it more easily. She sighed and dropped her heels to the ground, feeling gentle tugs here and there as he tried to work her free. She clasped her hands in front of her, not knowing what else to do with them. And then she remembered what he had said when he had found her.

“I’m not of the North, Ser. I am Alayne Stone. The Lord Protector’s daughter.”

She heard his hands pause. Just for a breath. “Of course you are. I must have been mistaken.” The man let out a little laugh through his nose, and she felt her blush spread to her neck even. _Now the tree and this man are laughing at me._ Though she didn’t know why _he_ was. “So, how did you manage this?” The stranger asked her.

Alayne sighed and tried to relax. The man seemed kind enough, but she was still a little nervous about the whole situation.

“It’s not as complicated as it looks, actually. I was standing by the tree, getting some fresh air, when a gust of wind came through and-

“And it didn’t want to let you go.”

“Precisely.” She felt herself laugh.

The man worked for a few more moments, silently but for a few snaps and pulls here and there. One lock of hair came lose and tumbled down in front of her, adding to her limited view. All she could see were his boots. Muddy old black things that desperately needed to be replaced. Perhaps she could offer him a new pair as a thank you.

“Are you competing in tomorrow’s tourney?”

“I am.”

“Well, I wish you all the luck”

He paused. His voice quiet. “Thank you.”

“May I ask your name?”

Another pause, only a heartbeat long. “You may ask.”

Alayne felt her face scrunch up. “What is your name?”

The only sound was the light wind, his breathing, the movement of his fingers in her hair as another freed lock fell in her face. “I’ve decided to enter the lists under a name other than my own.”

“A mystery knight then.” She began to feel a little concerned. Why wouldn’t he tell her his name? But there was a calmness about him that she couldn’t find herself to get too worried. Or maybe it was the wine. She put her hands on her hips. “Are you any good?”

A small laugh. “I won the last tourney I entered.”

“Well, you must be very good then.”

“You seemed to enjoy it.”

Alayne started. “I’m sorry if I have been rude but, have we met before?”

Another pause. “I have the pleasure to say I’ve never met Littlefinger’s bastard before. But aye, we’ve met.”

She froze _. Why the cruel words? Why the insult? And what in the name of the gods does he mean?_ But she didn’t have a moment to ask.

“There.” He announced with once last tug as more hair fell in her face. “You’re free.”

She heard him back away and she decided to ignore his last comment. His voice did sound familiar, but if he was going to enter as a mystery knight, his secret was about to be revealed.

“Thank you, Ser.”

“I’m no Ser. You know that.” Alayne stilled, her hand at her forehead, and suddenly she didn’t know if she wanted to see exactly who it was that had helped her. He went on. “But if you are going to call yourself Stone, you might as well consider me the Knight of buggering Flowers.”

The man gave a rasping laugh and she made herself stand up straight, pushing back the fan of tangled hair away from her face as he continued to talk. “Bet you’d prefer it were him who found you.”

She blinked a few strands out of her eyes until she was about to see clearly in the moonlight. The large man standing before her. His muddled armor. His lank, dark hair. His hooked nose. His terrible scars across one entire side of his face. His grey eyes alight in the dark.

“Hello little bird.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all liked! Let me know! Thank you again to Jennilynn who stuck Sansa in the tree and to Direwaggle who came up with my favorite line! (I put a star next to it) :)


End file.
